


METANOIA

by Cecileen_aka_C2



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders Are Siblings, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Everyone is in close CLOSE friends circle, Female Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Female Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Female Dr. Emile Picani, Female Logic | Logan Sanders, In Platonic Friendship We Trust, Mainly focusing on immigrants drama, Many more topics coming soon, Only an inch from forming an actual found famILY, Personal trauma? It's a free real estate haha, Wrath is named Marcus in my AU, Yes I am projecting my past to some of the Sides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-26 20:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecileen_aka_C2/pseuds/Cecileen_aka_C2
Summary: METANOIA[Greek] (n.) The journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life.The story of nine teens on their own path to self discovery and happiness.Sometimes they walk in three, sometimes two, but they never walk alone.
Kudos: 1





	1. NUMINOUS

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my collections of one-shots set in my take on High School! AU!
> 
> I know, this is the 144th Sanders Sides fanfic set in High School! AU, but I put lots of creativity in this AU and set a plot where I can tell the stories I and only I know. 
> 
> The oneshots are not organized in chronological order; they are more like an album opened to random page at every chapter. The age of characters in each oneshot is listed in note before the story, but I can add a special chapter where all key events are put in timeline!
> 
> Maybe I can write spinoffs set in alternate universe based on this AU? Like a cheesy urban fantasy or something?
> 
> You don't have to try to memorize all details, like each character's backstory or family, but if you are completely lost I can add a special chapter where I list all of my headcanons. 
> 
> At this point, you should expect ✨multilingual jokes✨ and ✨significant naming✨ from my works. Ten points to anyone who can correctly deduce the reasoning behind this choice of names:
> 
> Logan Berry-Woods  
> Rosario 'Rose' Delmonte  
> Patton Hartfield  
> Violet Yang  
> Janus Chastain  
> Remus Delmonte  
> Marcus 'Marc' Glenn  
> 'Remy' Remington  
> Emilie Picani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NUMINOUS  
> [English] (adj.) Feeling both fearful and awed by what is before you.
> 
> The memory of the first night and day in the US is still vivid in Rosario's mind.
> 
> Rosario: 8 (going on 9)  
> Logan: 9  
> Patton: 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I literally pull out my own memory of the first night and day in the US? Yes.
> 
> (Though in my case, I spent the entire first week waking up at the evening and sleeping in the afternoon)
> 
> Do I regret that decision? No.

When the memory of being fresh off the boat is still clear, the simple question “Where are you from?” hits you differently. You are standing on the American land, but that question clearly states that you are not accepted by American people yet. You are the only one whose answer is different from the rest of the class. 

Standing out means being different. That was one of the phrases from the books she read over summer, preparing for the newest school year ever. She imagined a scarecrow sticking over a wide corn field. Now she was the scarecrow of this 3th grade class, the only Mexican standing out. 

Being different means all eyes are on her. She loved when she was the _centro de atención_ −center of attention, (she liked how some words from Spanish sounded like English) everyone watching her on the stage, amazed at her voice. But these eyes were looking at her as if she was an alien from a different world (it would take several years for her to realize that statement is not entirely false at all,) the innocent curiosity hiding some other feelings. 

That was the exact reason Rosario Delmonte hesitated for nearly a full minute before spitting out a barely audible whisper: _México._

Rosario was in great desire to correct the teacher’s pronunciation. Why did she pronounce México like ‘Me-ci-co?’ Where did the ‘C’ sound come from? She almost missed how she called her ‘Rose’ too. Why not ‘Rosario?’ Or at least ‘Rosa’ for short? But she remembered her mother’s words: 

_Escucha a tus maestras._

Listen to your teachers. 

So she remained silent like a good girl she was. 

:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:

At least sitting right next to two friends she made before school relieved her. In fact they were the very first friends she made in the US!

Logan was her next door neighbor. Her mother was the one who’s been helping her family settle to the new home. Rosa still remembers the moment the airplane landed, orange lights scattered across the dark gray land, serious-looking officers who didn’t even blink, people picking up their luggage from the belt like quiet robots, riding a luggage cart all the way to the exit, the cold night air greeting her, and tía Alexis.

Tía Alexis was mamá’s friend back in college years. She was an _estudiante de intercambio_ −foreign exchange student who wanted to study Spanish language and literature in México. She was the one who helped the entire move; from visa to ticket and house. She remembers tía helping them stacking the luggage into her tiny car like Tetris and talking with mamá while driving. Remus was dead asleep, neck bent at an impossible angle, leaning onto her. She leant on the window and watched the new land passing by, amazed at how everything in America seemed to be large. Big cars, tall street lights, roads that seemed to go on forever… 

When she opened her eyes, not realizing she had fallen asleep, the car arrived at a house. Tía said something like _condo_ , but she preferred _casa_. They both began with the ‘C’ sound anyway. She would’ve loved to explore the new home, but as soon as she saw a sofa she immediately crashed down. 

It was late morning when she woke up again. Remus was curled right next to her, clutching his lime green octopus plushie. The white wood frame of the bunk bed greeted her. A bunk bed! Rosa immediately slid out from the bed to admire the room. The almighty bunk bed with a drawer stairs occupied nearly half of the room, but that could not bother her at all. The floor was covered in light beige wool. _Why do Americans have carpeted floors?_ Rosa wondered as she opened the closet doors that rolled up to create a tiny enclosed spot between the stair and closet. She already knew what would go inside the closet: clothes and art supplies! Across the bed was a desk and a bookshelf attached to it. It was the same shade as the bed, contrasting with the beige carpet and light green wall. Leaving Remus asleep, (he spent most of time in the bed anyway) Rosa left the room.

The short carpeted hallway led her past the bathroom and to the kitchen on the right and dining room on the left. The floor of the kitchen and dining room was not carpeted. From the downstairs she heard tía and mamá talking. She slowly reached the stairway… 

And didn’t expect to see a girl around her age.

Her chocolate brown hair that looked exactly like tía’s was tied into a long ponytail. Who needs dolls when they have hair like that? Sharp eyes shined in the shade of midnight sky behind the rectangular glasses. Tía had the energy of the sun, and this girl had the energy of the moon. 

Mamá waved at her to come downstairs, and that was when she knew. 

Logan Berry was her very first friend in the US.

:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:

Arriving in late May, she didn’t go to school till September. No one was sure whether Remus could go to school this year, so the nervousness that was not too strong to be called fear followed her throughout the entire summer. She was more nervous about English than going to school alone. Spanish and English were quite similar, but her English was not good enough to survive the American school alone. 

Rosa spent most of the summer in the neighbor library. Logan grabbed her hand, guided through the labyrinth of bookshelves, picked a random book and led to the couch. Then she would make Rosa read the book, correcting her pronunciation on the way. She couldn’t help but wonder how she learnt Spanish−maybe tía taught her? Logan’s ability to understand her mix of languages (mainly Spanish and broken English scattered) and immediately fluently answer her questions inspired her to conquer this English language like a knight slaying a dragon. Eventually she found favorite series: _Thea Stilton_ and _American Girls_. Though she wouldn’t deny she was appealed by pretty illustrations, the stories that crossed the border of fiction and reality amused her.

One thing that really surprised her was vending machines in the library. Didn't the libraries allow no food? But the sound of pressing the button and snack dropping down was mesmerizing. One day, while waiting for Logan to choose her snack, a blond boy approached them. Rosa froze like a deer caught in headlights as Logan picked up her Reese's and greeted him. 

Patton Hartfield. Always smelling like some bread or cookie. Gold curls and blue eyes sparkling behind the round glasses. Freckles scattered across rosy cheeks like sunflower seeds. Always had extra cookies (chocolate chips was the best, oatmeal raisin was the worst) to spare when they met again. Gave TWO cookies on her birthday (she saved one for Remus, though she was unsure whether he could eat it.) Invited them to watch _Dora the Explorer_ (Rosa was SHOCKED to find out American version of Dora teaches Spanish) or _The Magic School Bus_ at his house. Tried to imitate Carlos’ puns and enthusiastically explain them to her, which would result in Logan facepalming with a groan. 

Those were the things Rosa associated with Patton. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you can spot the explicit inflict hints of future drama


	2. NEFELIBATA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NEFELIBATA  
> [Portuguese] (n.) One who lives in the clouds of their own imagination; An unconventional person.
> 
> Logan and Patton viewed each other as a stranger from the different world, yet they found comfort in each others company.
> 
> Logan: 6  
> Patton: 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see I didn't put as much effort as other oneshots lol
> 
> I think Logan and Patton being the first two to meet each other makes sense, since they are the only two to be named after ancient Greek concepts, in contrast to the Ancient Rome association others' names have. 
> 
> I named Marcus after the Roman god Mars. Compared to his Greek counterpart Ares, Mars had more significance in Roman myth; he represented military power that secures peace, and was regarded as father figure to Roman people, since Romulus and Remus were children of Mars.

Logan Berry remembers the very first day of 1st grade. 

She was one of the few kids who did not hesitate to enter the school or clung to parents. Rather, she looked forward to exploring the building and discovering new books. She wanted to find the books she didn’t find from the local library. Recognizing the books she already read was not disappointing, but the excitement slowly sank down. She craved something new. 

While the kids eagerly escaped the classroom to seize the recess, Logan lingered longer in the room, making sure her book was safe in the bag. She picked up the book and hesitantly left the room. She seeked solace in the shade, away from the cacophony in the playground, enjoying the book. 

And that’s when he found her.

To Logan’s eyes Patton seemed to belong to the other world. Always smelling like baked goods. Always joining her in the shade, the cookies changing every time. Always nibbled on the cookies she declined. His attention would stray to ants attracted to cookie crumbs he dropped. His eyes were fixed at the ants till the recess was over. 

Logan didn’t know why she kept looking for Patton. She wasn’t a big fan of the company, but his presence was particularly different. He seemed to radiate a certain warmth that was comforting. Noticing the last name of a baker of the neighborhood bakery and the nurse from the local clinic hit her with the realization. It really was a small world, and Logan did not believe in ‘destined encounter,’ but she did know that

She enjoyed his company. 

:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:~:۞:

Patton Hartfield remembers the very first day of 1st grade. 

He was one of the few kids who did not hesitate to enter the school or clung to parents. Rather, he looked forward to exploring the building and discovering new friends. He wanted to find the books she didn’t find from the local library. Recognizing the friends he already made was not disappointing, but the excitement slowly sank down. He craved something new. 

While the kids eagerly escaped the classroom to seize the recess, Patton lingered longer in the room, making sure the cookies were not crumbled. He picked up the Ziploc and hesitantly left the room. He seeked solace in the shade, away from the cacophony in the playground, enjoying the cookie. 

And that’s when he found her.

To Patton’s eyes Logan seemed to belong to the other world. Always smelling like a thick book. Always reading in the shade, the books changing every time. Always declined the cookies he offered. Her attention never strayed from the book she laid protectively on her laps. Her eyes were fixed at the book till the recess was over.

Patton didn’t know why he kept looking for Logan. He was a big fan of the company already, but her presence was particularly different. She seemed to radiate a certain coolness that was comforting. Noticing the last name of a librarian of the neighborhood library and the striking similarity hit him with the realization. It really was a small world, and Patton absolutely believed in ‘destined encounter,’ so he did know that

He enjoyed her company. 


	3. HIRAETH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HIRAETH  
> [Welsh] (n.) The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was.
> 
> A single word "home" will haunt them forever. So will a simple question "Where are you from?"
> 
> Rosario: 14  
> Violet: 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: Hiraeth is one of my favorite words

The green and brown exterior signifies the buzziest bubble tea café in the downtown. The interior−a wall covered in classic French posters−contrasts with menus written in English and Mandarin Chinese, but two girls on the couch did not mind such linguistic coexistence.

A large original style sakura milk tea with boba and strawberry heart belongs to a girl clutching a cushion. Her warm brown curls are set meticulously, a golden crown hairpin accentuating braided bangs. Her honey skin glows lightly in the sunlight. 

A medium British style taro milk tea with boba and coffee jelly belongs to a girl leaning to the redhead. Her straight raven hair is highlighted by streaks of her namesake on her bangs that hides her right eye. Her ivory skin is as clear as the porcelain. 

The café buzzes with peppy (though some would say high) university students, filling the air with chatters and laughters. The noise secludes two girls, providing a space of privacy that mutes their dialogue. 

“What is his middle name today? Dmitry? Daniel?”

“Damien. He’s been Janus Damien Chastain since birth.”

“So he’s JDC. ‘Twas bold of me to assume you were J.D-lightful when there was the actual JD right next to us. You be Veronica Sawyer to this snarky snakey JD-C. Get it? Like JD- _ssi?_ ”

“Yeah, nice try, _princesa._ ”

A delighted smile of a multilingual pun attempted being approved. A few minutes of sipping and stirring tea pauses the conversation. 

“Though, I cannot hate that Reptilian Rapscallion completely.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I wouldn’t be able to meet you if he did not come here.”

“Is it true, _señorita_?”

She has a mesmerizing heterochromia that stares at your soul. The chocolate orb on the right shimmers in violet, possibly reflected from her bangs. The turquoise orb on the left changes in every blink, along the spectrum of blue and green. Yin and Yang tinted on her eyes pull out the truest answer.

“Yeah? Because he settled in this place before you did. You only came to this boring town to live with your new brother.”

“It is true, but is it true? We still could’ve met in the university.”

“Why would you want to come to this boring college town−”

“This university is one of the best in the world. Be proud of your hometown.”

“I know, I just love roasting my home.”

“Nice.”

The redhead did not notice how the brunette’s eyes shut down at the mention of a certain word. Her long eyelashes completely closed her eyes, not letting any drop of emotion slip away.

“Hey, where is your home?”

“Come on, you’ve seen my place-”

“No, I mean: _where are you from?_ ”

“ _Oh._ ”

She _knows_ that question, and so does she. They both know the way that question stings, paralysing the memory. It pulls out the snippets from the past that are still vivid in their mind. Yet their paralysed memory makes them doubt to believe them to be true. 

People who have lived in their homeland for their entire lifetime will never understand the reason they hesitate with a choked gasp before answering such a simple question. Do they really have to list all those countries and cities they were born and grew up in order to satisfy the question? But whom will they satisfy by doing so? Is it worth standing out with the only lengthy answer? In the end they settle with a hesitant reply with an unnecessary detail, and people would remark “what a unique experience!” to hide the fact that they cannot truly understand it. But it does not stop them from still being able to sense how different they are, an eternal alien isolated from this world.

“As you know, I came here when I was in 4th grade. Mexico still was my _home_. But now, I’d like to call this place my home, because it is where I met my lifelong friends-including you.”

_And daily life is not as much as depressing anymore._

She chose not to include that comment. 

“You’ve been living here for 6 years. It is a long time that can change your opinion.”

“Maybe my opinion can change a few years later. But right not, this is my home.”

The brunette sits silent for a full minute. The straw is in her mouth but she does not sip. Finally she opens her mouth:

“I love the morning before taking the plane. Dragging your dead tired body and luggage to the car when the sky is still dark. Arriving at the airport at the break of dawn. Checking-in, checking luggage, and security. Enjoying a late breakfast while observing passerbys. Then depart. I visited 3 or 4 different airports every year, so the process became as natural as breathing to me.”

At this point the conversation shifted to brunette’s monologue, but the redhead did not mind. It was rare to hear her talking long.

“I’ve lived in a handful of big cities in East Asia and Germany, at least half a year in each and every spot. Saying goodbye to people and places I grew attached to… I wish I never got used to it. Or I didn’t-it still hurts. Every single time.”

It is the silence both of them know too well; silence of denying they’re hurting. 

“Maybe I wanted to stop and settle _somewhere_ _._ Maybe I resigned to my fate as an eternal wanderer. Maybe I still am both a settler and wanderer simultaneously, and I will continue to be till I die.”

 _Till death._ What makes it sound terrifying is its ambiguity. Sensing the body she’s been leaning on tense in this fear, the brunette shifts to face the redhead.

“But if that was what took for us to meet, it would have been worth it.” 

“I am greatly honored to hear that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'mon now, I'm quite proud of JD-C joke
> 
> Did I explicitly projected my internal conflict? Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. 
> 
> This will definitely not be the last time I bring up TCK crisis.


End file.
